I’m far from perfect. I still mess up. But every night when I tuck Max into bed and he looks up at me with a sleepy smile, I think back to the promise I made at the grave: “I’ll never let anyone take you away.” And I know I’ve kept that promise.
Because real love isn’t measured by years you’ve lived or dollars in a bank. It’s measured by the fights you’re willing to face and the lengths you’ll go for the person you love. When Max whispered, “You never gave up on me,” I whispered back, “I could never give up on you.” And that will always be enough.
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